Violence is All the Rage
by Hitsugi Zirkus
Summary: Destroy them. Destroy those you hate and your home. But make sure you destroy yourself last. Make it beautiful. Make it brutal. Make it your ultimate torture. Alois/Claude For my bff, sSophisticateds Early Halloween treats! :3


**A/N: **Yo yo yo! This is Xelruna after an extrememly long hiatus! Why haven't I published, one may ask? Because someone decided that there should be a grade level between senior and sophomore :V I've been busy with life, suffice to say. But I'll ramble more on that later...

I present to you people, meh first Kuro fic! w00t! Yay! i expected it would be Sebby/Ciel, but alas!, 'tis Alois/Claude...sort of. So enjoy. Sit back and relax and if you can read this with a dark ambiance in mind, just to set the mood :3

For my best friend, **sSophisticateds**. I hope you are happy, dearie - you have now made me a shameless Kuroshitsuji fangirl. So now you have this to entertain you. Hope you enjoy it, Lis :3

**Violence is All the Rage**

When Alois stepped into his room that night, he found a man he was sure he hadn't seen before. He was tall, the dim light from the evening sky outside casting shadows upon his pale countenance.

Furrowing his blonde brows in anger, Alois flipped a switch to flood the room in light. The uninvited guest looked to be a new servant, judging from the immaculate uniform that smoothly covered his body and expression upon his countenance that was something between impassive and submissive. Obsidian hair was partially slicked back except for some tresses that teased his right ear. Glowing amber eyes like lit jack-o-lanterns on a cool night were framed within black-rimmed glasses and stared down at the young blond.

He bowed with practiced precision. "Alois Trancy," he addressed in a rather stoic voice. "Good evening, Your High-"

"Are you another butler my parents employed to watch over me?" Alois interrupted and getting straight to his point, as was the norm for his character. He sighed in exaggerated annoyance, going over to where the black-haired man stood straight again before his bed. He dropped onto the mattress, causing the previously smooth purple sheets to wrinkle with grooves. "Their standards must be slipping to hire such ill-mannered help. You've entered my room without _permission_. Would it _kill_ you to know your position?"

Alois' clearwater eyes surveyed the butler expectantly, waiting for a sign of shock or fear. He loved reminding people how much garbage they were – one could say it was a favorite pastime of his – and servants were easy targets.

But the golden-eyed man remained utterly expressionless. He turned around and bowed once more to his master. "Forgive me, Your Highness," he said tersely. Keeping his bowed stance, he elaborated, "But this is where Master Iniko and Mistress Mikan brought me when I awoke. For I _am_…" He lifted his face, straightening up, "…your Kumoshitsuji doll."

Surprise widened Alois' eyes. He sat up on his bed and scrutinized his new butler – his _doll_? – in fresh light. He reached out to feel his face, pinching cheeks. "Ehh?" he said in amazement, "so you're one of those human dolls I'm hearing about? You feel so real, and _look_ it, too. Haha, you had me fooled there! Hn, but I guess that's the Phantom Company for you."

"Yes, Your Highness," the man replied, seemingly unbothered as Alois continued to explore him. "It was Mistress Mikan's wish that I serve you."

"Hmm…," Alois hummed mindlessly. He tugged a spider-silk strand of the unnamed doll's oblivion-black hair. "Mother is quite the idiot. She's so one-track minded and predictable. I bet she all but begged my father to get you…" He narrowed his eyes dangerously, a dark look crossing his countenance.

The doll bent to one knee suddenly, his eyes looking onto his new master and not tearing away. A gloved hand reached to softly grasp Alois', which was still tangling its fingers into obsidian tresses.

"And now I kneel to you," he spoke, "ready to serve you and be by your side unconditionally."

Alois raised a blond brow, lips forming a displeased thin line. "I wonder if that's the doll in you speaking, or the servant," he mused in disgust. "So ready to obey." He giggled. "Like a dog." His blue eyes ventured to one of the butler's cuffs, where a cream-colored tag was sticking out. He plucked it off and read the black, goth-like letters written upon it.

"Kumoshitsuji, eh?" he said in wonder as his doll stood up once more.

"What a horribly beautiful name."

* * *

_One Month Later_

The room dedicated to Alois' art history lessons was unbearably dull and cramped. The walls were covered with paintings within golden frames, and photographs of statues and various periods of architecture, and blahblahblah… Bricks and marble could only entertain Alois for so long.

His tutor, Miss Mary – as dull as the room and subject – was lecturing about Early Christian basilicas. Alois, bored as death, cupped his face in his hands, elbows on his desk.

As Miss Mary spoke, a gloved hand gently nudged the blonde's right bicep. "Not during your lesson, Your Highness," murmured a mechanical voice, careful not to be louder than the tutor. "It is ill-mannered to set ones elbows upon a table."

Alois rolled his eyes, but nevertheless did as he was told, pouting in annoyance. "This _lesson_ is about as exciting as watching a tree grow," he said tersely, not minding his volume at all. He looked over at his golden-eyed butler behind him. "I would like better _entertainment_, Claude."

At that point, Miss Mary had stopped speaking, instead crossing her arms and leering at Alois with cold brown eyes. "Young Master, with all due respect, this is a tutoring session, not entertainment," she said icily, then resumed on with her lecture once more: "Now then, with the persecution of Christians, the basilicas of that time…"

Alois narrowed his eyes as she spoke. _How dare that whore speak to me that way_? He huffed, deciding to flip through his textbook as a substitute for better amusement. Ironically enough, he found there to be more words than pictures in a book of _art_ history. "How boring," he sighed under his breath.

Claude stirred beside the blonde. "Please, Your Highness," he muttered.

A thoughtful expression crossed Alois' face before he smirked. Continuing to completely ignore his tutor, he leaned casually back on his chair and propped his feet on the table, on top of his open textbook. He offered his Kumoshitsuji a teasing smile, his Clearwater eyes gleaming expectantly.

"This kind of thing bothers you, right?" Alois inquired, tapping his boots together on the desk.

"You shouldn't test others like this," Claude advised impassively, making the warning sound less genuine.

Alois giggled. "But it's _fun_ to see others cross their own boundaries," he insisted, remaining in the lounging position he was in. It was hard to tell whether he was speaking of Claude or Miss Mary in his statement.

Said tutor set her lips in a thin line, walking up to the blonde. "Young Master, I have asked you for weeks to please pay attention to your lessons. Now is not the time to be playing with your doll." She took hold of his feet by the boot, placing them back down under the desk.

Not more than a second passed before a dark look crossed Alois' countenance and he lashed out a hand to slap Miss Mary's face. The loud impact of palm upon cheek didn't resonate long as the tutor staggered to the ground, Alois towering over her.

"How dare you touch me with such filthy hands!" he shouted in disgust. "Don't you defile me with that taint! I can have you fired in an instant!" His fingers gripped Miss Mary's collar, jerking her towards him. From that close range, he saw her fearful brown eyes look over behind him, directly where Claude stood. Alois briefly turned to his butler's still form then snapped back to slap Miss Mary again. "Take it back! Don't call him that! I can have him _kill_ you, you cow!"

"Your Highness," Claude interrupted, resting a hand on the blonde's shoulder. "Your parents will be displeased if they learn you are acting this way."

Alois froze at Claude's voice. His heartstrings felt pulled upon, as if his organ were a puppet being restrained by a hand he couldn't see. He looked back down at his tutor with newfound condescension. Hands releasing their grip, she fell back on the floor. Alois began to giggle.

"Why so serious, Miss Mary?" he asked through a fit of laughter. He looked over at Claude, wrapping a finger around the loop of the black ribbon around the butler's neck.

"I was just _joking_."

* * *

"Alois, what were you _thinking_-?"

"She threatened to _sue_, you know-!"

"-could've sworn we taught you better than that-"

"-and no amount of bribery would have shushed her-"

"-wrong? What's _wrong_, Alois? It's like this with every servant and tutor we've given you! Even the children you used to play with said you were so crude!" Mistress Mikan exclaimed breathlessly. She wrung her brown-haired French braid worriedly, casting her grey eyes away. The room went silent, and not even Alois' father interrupted the dense quiet that suddenly hung in the air.

His mother sighed, looking behind her son straight at the unwavering Claude. "I thought perhaps you'd be _better_-_behaved_ if we got you that doll."

Alois, sitting on one of the sofas in the room comfortably, asked, "Why would you think something like _that_?"

Mistress Mikan and Master Iniko froze up at the question.

But an answer needn't have been provided as Alois elaborated, "Did you think that since he's so emotionless he'd have a better tolerance of me? You've given up my compatibility with humans, so you substituted with machinery? A convenient replacement…" Alois reached up to lightly caress the smooth skin of Claude's chin with his fingers. His voice was decidedly softer and deadlier when he finished, "…since he is human in appearance alone?"

His parents exchanged uncomfortable and abashed expressions. Alois' father was the first to recover as he leered down at his son with sapphire eyes. "Not another word of this business," he ordered firmly. "We should be lucky Miss Mary is keeping tolerant of your behavior and continuing to stay here. As for now, go to your room!"

"Fine, fine, O Father of mine," Alois lilted, beckoning Claude to follow him out the room. The ebony-haired doll wordlessly closed the door after him. Their footsteps were silent against the padding of the red carpet, the dying candlelights casting their shadows on the flora-printed wallpaper. The pair entered Alois' room without so much as a glance to one another.

As the door clicked closed, the placid expression on the blonde's face quickly changed to one of disdain. Flipping aside his bangs, he murmured, "What idiots. The lot of them." He sat down onto his bed with a huff, casting Claude a frustrated glance. "Undress me, Claude. I just want to go to sleep for now."

The golden-eyed butler came towards him. His hands slid down Alois' legs as he took off the shorts, stockings and shoes; down shoulders and arms as he removed the purple coat. He then proceeded with the vest, then undid the buttons of Alois' shirt – one by one – his fingers sending small feelings of warmth straight to the blonde's stomach as they barely brushed against his clothed skin.

When his master was unclothed from his everyday apparel, Claude went over to a dresser located on the side of the nightstand not occupied by the bed, and pulled out a pale blue nightgown. As Claude gently pulled the gown down his master's figure, Alois murmured, "They aren't even my real parents. Did you know that?"

Claude showed no signs of caring – as was expected of a doll – but looked up and locked his eyes with Alois to show he was listening, beginning to make the buttons.

"I've never known my actual family or a past life – if I had one, that is." Alois shrugged, a peculiar look in his eyes for a flash of a second before they returned to the jeering blue they always were. "I was in an orphanage for most of my life," he continued nonchalantly. "The Trancies adopted me five years ago."

Claude looked away and pulled back the blankets and one of the sheets to prepare the bed.

"Mikan can't have kids so she got me to shove the Trancy dream into. They're just using me. But I guess it all works out, since I've never liked them anyway," Alois admitted with no trace of hesitation. He crawled onto the bed and Claude dutifully put the covers over his master. Blond tresses rustled softly against the silk fabric of the pillow as Alois looked up at his butler. "I've never liked anybody. They're all stupid morons. Everyone. No one is of use to me."

Claude tilted his head slightly, like he was actually pondering the blonde's words. "That is why you have me, Your Highness," he said slowly.

"You're…" Alois wanted to say 'just a doll,' but the words got stuck in his throat, holding his tongue. He liked Claude more than that, and he didn't want to shatter the butler's brilliance and importance to him by signing him off as a mere toy. _He's better than humans. He's a perfect blank slate. I envy him_.

Tresses of black spider-silk hair brushed past pale cheeks as Claude bowed. "If I recall correctly, you spoke of my being able to murder Miss Mary at your word," he reminded, making light of such a heavy remark. He lifted his face just a fraction, just enough to have his jack-o-lantern orbs meet his master's sky-blue ones. "Your Highness, no matter the cost, it is true that I do whatever you wish. Do you desire that woman to be disposed of?"

Alois blinked incredulously. _Claude would murder someone…if only he asked for it_? The thought was so absurd that he laughed and waved his hand dismissively. "_That_ would be something," he said, lips stretched in a huge smile. "If I want her to die, you'll kill her? That's awful! So awful!" He clutched the fabric of his blanket, laughing until he was reduced to stifled giggles. "Hee-hee… Murder her, Claude. Do that for me."

Claude nodded, rising once more. "If it pleases Your Highness," he agreed, and proceeded to the other side of the room, where he turned off the light and all was bathed in silver moonlight.

* * *

Alois sat on his chair, feet propped up on his desk with a newspaper open in front of him. His eyes were settled on one of the stories within, and he read through it while humming a soft tune to himself. Tapping his foot in time with his humming, he glossed over the photo that came with the story: in monochrome black was a snap-shot of a stretcher being carried by two doctors. A white blanket was over the body, though it did nothing to hide the feminine form, the fanned out chestnut (in the photo, grey) hair, or one arm that slithered out, cuts of all lengths and depths criss-crossing over it.

A small smile played upon Alois' lips, and the cruel grin only grew wider as he read the story. When he finally couldn't hold it in anymore, he laughed – an unbridled, callous sound of evil bliss. "My, he _does_ work fast!" he exclaimed joyously, taking a swing around in his chair, then continuing to hum to himself.

There was a knock at the door, followed by Alois' consenting reply. The golden knob twisted and clicked, the clean-polished door swaying open to let Claude inside the room. He was carrying a small golden tray, upon which was a round teapot radiating heat, a matching teacup with silver flowers decorated upon it, napkins, and a small covered plate.

"Are you ready for your afternoon tea, Your Highness?" the black-haired butler asked, as he tilted the teapot and poured its contents into the cup with perfect grace.

"Claude!" exclaimed Alois, still smiling. "You actually did it and you didn't tell me? You're such a tease!" He settled the paper down on the table and took the filled cup Claude offered him. He looked at the covered plate pointedly. "What's in there? Candy, I hope?" He didn't wait too long for an answer as he gulped down his tea, and none to mannered-like.

Claude wasn't fazed by his master's ill-behavior, and took one of the napkins from the tray to wipe up Alois' mouth. "It's just something I thought you would like," he said, tossing the dirty napkin in the trash before lifting the golden lid from the plate. Inside was a photograph of someone, but their face was so covered in blood and hair that it was almost impossible to tell who it was. One eye peeked out from behind the curtain of hair, wide in fear, tears glassing the pretty orb.

Alois picked up the photo and whistled. "Oh my, who's this? A ghost? Looks like one of the demented spirits I hear about that come from Japan," he said in awe, twisting the picture every which way, catching finer details he hadn't known before. The face seemed more feminine, and blood ran everywhere, all coming from thick dark-grey – almost black – lines along her cheeks and forehead. A hand was seen in the corner of the photograph, almost raised in what seemed to be defense. Then Alois saw it – the ring around one of the fingers. He'd recognize that star-shaped gem anywhere.

Alois looked up at his butler, chuckling darkly. "Did you make it painful?"

Lifting his glasses with a gloved hand, he replied, "I deliberately avoided any vital spots until she couldn't move anymore."

A half-crazed giggle. "Did she scream?"

Claude straightened up. "Profusely so," he responded in that same mechanical voice. Then something about him seemed off as he elaborated, "She…wouldn't stop until I reduced her to whimpers."

Alois leaned back against the chair, twirling around in it. His blond hair whipped around his cheeks as he did so. He couldn't stop the light, radiant feeling in his chest that he was sure could be called euphoria. His smile turned into something of a horrible grin. Yes, he felt happy. One of the idiots in this world was gone, and he wouldn't have to deal with her anymore. The thrill of that undeniable fear so palpable you could practically feel her fast-beating heart right there in the photograph. Cuts so deep and flowing that one could hear the echoing screams as those wounds were inflicted upon her.

Alois tilted his head to the side, still spinning. "I think I really like this game, Claude," he said. "So why should we stop here?"

Through his vertigo, he saw Claude bow as curtly as he always did. "As I've told you before," he began, pouring another cup full of sweet-smelling tea, "I carry out your desires, no matter what. As a butler and a _doll_…" He blinked, glancing up at Alois as he put the teapot back down with a small '_clink_.' "…is that not what I am here for, Your Highness?"

Alois' childlike blue eyes suddenly darkened with angered shadows. With a swift motion of his hand, he crashed the tea and fine china onto the floor. Glass shattered and pieces clanked against one another harshly; tea spilled onto the immaculate carpet and the tray fell with a soft '_thud_.'

"Never call yourself that!" Alois cried in anger. "Don't call yourself such a thing! I hate it! I hate it a lot!" He pointed behind him sharply, where the window showed a perfect sunny view of the courtyard. "Out _there_ are the dolls! _They_ are the fake ones! _They_'re the ones who aren't real! Okay? So…" He got up and wrapped his arms tightly around Claude's waist, clutching the crisp black uniform tightly. "…so don't call yourself that. These dead eyes, that mechanical voice, that ticking heart…that's what real to me!"

Claude tilted his head to the side, expression blank. He couldn't possibly comprehend Alois' feelings the way the blonde wanted him to. A toy wasn't equipped for that. The only thing inside…was the duty to serve completely and wholly. Everything else was irrelevant. "Your Highness," began the golden-eyed butler slowly, "that mess will need cleaning. I will have to hurry before the tea stains the carpet."

"Dammit I don't care about that! I'll get another servant to do it later!"

Something wet and hot began to stain Claude's clothes, and Alois' small body was beginning to tremble. He spoke again when he realized what both meant. "Being so attached to a doll such as me… I think you're becoming too childish, Your Highness." When Alois only sobbed further, Claude pulled his master away, holding his shoulders firmly. "However, should I at least be honored for being your favorite toy? I am useful, aren't I? I'll keep killing, so long as it remains your wish."

Alois paused, trying to calm himself down. He never lost his composure before – at least, not like _this_. Just as he tried wiping his eyes, a yellow napkin was presented before him, obviously one that survived from his tantrum. He blinked, looking up at Claude's perfectly crafted face, the softest strands of hair brushing against his ear just as when he first laid eyes on the butler. Alois stood still as Claude gently wiped up his tears, even softly patting his eyes to dry the ones that had stuck to his blonde lashes.

"Is it your wish?" his butler asked once more.

Taking a breath, Alois turned around to face the window. Outside in the courtyard, he saw Mikan and Iniko conversing as they strolled among the trees and flowers. The blonde touched the glass tentatively, the surface cold against his fingers. A small smile returned to his face once more.

The mess, the bloody mess, staining the carpet with broken glass, broken flesh…

"You'll have to promise to take photographs when you're done, alright?" Alois asked, turning back around to face his precious Claude.

Then something peculiar happened. As the ebony-haired butler bowed before his master, some weird look appeared in Claude's eyes – _could_ a doll have a look, an _expression_, in its eyes? Well, whatever it was, Alois didn't question it as he replied with characteristic apathy, "As Your Highness wills it."

* * *

The photographs littered the walls, room, and bed, each one depicting faces of horror: mouths wide in a scream preserved forever, eyes glassed in tears – but were the liquid lines trailing their cheeks tears or blood, or a mix of the two? Cuts everywhere, eyes missing, gore dripping, blood rushing- scream, scream…-!

"Oy, Claude, ever think about being a photographer? I think you'd be good at that."

The servants spread rumors when the heads of Trancy perished in an accident. They said it was a dual suicide – perhaps they just couldn't take raising a boy such as Alois. Or maybe he killed them himself, it wouldn't be unexpected. Those were the nicer remarks.

Then there were the ones who talked about Claude.

"_It's him, I bet you-"_

"_Always doing what that Trancy brat says, no matter how bad-"_

"_I wouldn't hold it against it-"_

"_Just always staring at you with those eyes, like it _knows_ something-"_

"_Rather like it _wants_ something!"_

"_Oh, you are all so ridiculous, it's only a_ toy!"

…Of course, they had to be disposed of as well. Alois, spread over his bed, was once again humming a little tune to himself as he lifted up one particular photo that was more interesting than some of the others. This one depicted a woman on her knees before a wall. Her head was lolled to the side and her eyes closed so she was very much dead. Her arms were above her and her hands met were a knife had pinned them to the wall. The blackened blood trailed down the wall and oozed into her hair and shoulders, mixing with the rest of her plasma along her cut-to-ribbons body.

However, it was what was on the wall next to her that was the intriguing aspect of the image. In letters as inky as the victims blood was the phrase, _Your will_. Some of the letters were dripping plasma when the photo was taken, making the image look all the more eerie. Alois hummed in contentment.

Yes, he was happy.

The servants fled after awhile, but Alois didn't give them a moments peace. They, everyone, were disposed of. Not one was spared. Each one met a gruesome end, one a certain Kumoshitsuji did not mind carrying out.

Oh yeah, Claude. He had been acting rather odd lately… Alois chanced a peek over at his butler, who was standing statue-still against a wall, posture straight and jack-o-lantern eyes staring somewhere off into space.

_As if his attention is elsewhere_…, Alois thought. _Actually, I noticed he's been off. I wonder what it is_…? The butler's actions had as of late seemed to proceed in almost slow motion – the arm that held a tray, the fingers that unbuttoned his clothes, the legs that walked…like Claude was thinking how to function properly. And he was more silent, but when he did speak, it was rigid, as if…_frustrated_.

But that was absurd, right? No, Claude wasn't _allowed_ to feel. Alois knew what a thing like that did. It controlled you, shackled you, raped your heart and left it along with you for dead. It **destroyed** you. And destruction was the last thing the blonde wished upon his dear Claude.

Alois stopped his musings when Claude came suddenly over to the bed. The blonde looked outside at the night sky, the pearly moon already high in the sky. "Oh, is it time for med already? Hmm, as the saying goes when you're having too much fun, right?" Alois chuckled at his joke. His Kumoshitsuji didn't reply, only waiting until Alois came over to him so he could begin undressing him for the night.

"You know, Claude, I'm really pleased with you," the blonde commented with his characteristic smirk. His blue eyes watched intently as Claude removed his clothes. "You've slaughtered," he laughed, "rather brutally, all those I hated in my life. Simply removing them wouldn't have been enough. They had to be banished to the next world. They were filthy things. Immoral trinkets that some god decided to let crawl on this earth."

As Claude folded up the dirty clothes and went to get his master's nightgown, Alois began to gather up the photographs from his bed, an expression of ghastly rapture on his countenance. The horrible smirk made his childish face seem a lot more older, but insane. "Look at them all! I don't think I'll ever tire of skimming through these." He settled the images on his nightstand as Claude came back to drape Alois' nightgown on. The blonde resisted the urge to shiver; he couldn't help it, those fabricated hands felt so right against his skin. Everything about Claude was so right to him. Was it because he was the product of humans hoped to be? Alois certainly wished he could only be so emotionless.

Acting on impulse as he usually did, when Claude was fussing over the buttons of his gown, Alois cupped his Kumoshitsuji's face and gently pressed his lips against Claude's. The two stayed like that for a second – or more? Alois wasn't paying attention – until the blond pulled back, flicking out his tongue to taste those remarkably soft lips, then kissed his beloved killer butler once more.

Claude was utterly unfazed by any of this, but as one who was made to obey, one of his hands had gone to weave into ruffled blonde tresses. When Alois pulled back again, Claude stared at his master with indifferent golden eyes. Alois giggled, settling back on his bed. He turned around, where a mirror with an intricately crafted golden frame was facing his bed. From there, he saw Claude rise, as silent as ever.

_But why are his eyes still that way_…? Like he's restrained. Like…

"_Just always staring at you with those eyes, like it _knows_ something-"_

"_Rather like it _wants_ something!"_

Alois was quick to push those memories form his mind now. "Because they're all gone. And once dead, they can never come back," he said cryptically. "They all had to pay – for their sin in living with shit for souls." Alois absorbed what he said for a minute, then smiled. Staring at Claude in the mirror, he said, "Hee-hee…Claude, you taste like blood." As if to prove his point, the blonde swiped his tongue sensually over his pink lips.

"You told me to kill." Claude's voice was off – a note higher?

Alois cocked his head, dubious as to if what he heard was real.

As if to throw off the suspicion, his ebony-haired butler tossed the blankets over his master, smoothing them over. Those gloved hands traced over Alois' petite frame, lingering over his shoulders, the curve of his thigh… Alois settled into his pillows, still staring at the reflected Claude, whose fine black brows were furrowed. Alois frowned as well – he'd never seen an expression of concentration on the Kumoshitsuji's face…or _any_ expression for that matter.

The hands left his body, and Alois felt suddenly unsafe. He needed a sudden comfort. He debated whether or not to ask Claude to get into bed with him. _I could just…ask him to_ sleep _with me_…, he thought, somewhat dubiously. Gripping his blankets tightly, Alois murmured, "Claude…I'm really happy. A life like this…this is one that I wanted."

"This doesn't sound like you, Your Highness," the butler remarked, albeit choking on his words. He stood up a little straighter.

"But I really am. I've always wanted to just be with you. Everyone else….everyone else was always irrelevant." Alois gripped his blanket a little tighter as he said, "I'm happy Claude. I'm happy with just you. I don't want anyone tainted. I don't want anyone who feels."

Light in the room glimpsed onto Claude's glasses, the expression in his eyes – when did Alois become worried about that? – concealed. "Yes, Your Highness," the Kumoshitsuji replied, his voice suddenly back to that same mechanical tone. It was eerie, and a little _too_ emotionless.

No, not emotionless – **cold**.

_And…why did he reply like I gave him an order_? Alois wondered. He took another look into the silvery surface of the mirror. What he saw caused his eyes to widen.

"CLAU-!"

The exclamation couldn't be finished as an ordinary golden kitchen knife was struck into Alois' throat. It was only seconds until he began choking his own blood. It struck to the sheets, but Alois didn't have time to think of the pain before the knife was removed and it stabbed him again in the back. Exclaims of pain and confusion left the blonde's now blood-stained lips as Claude continued to cut and stab him. Raw wounds stung in the cool room. Soon, Alois couldn't even move.

He stared in horror at the figure above him. Claude peered down with his amber eyes which glowed like fire. "Cl-Claude…?" Alois whimpered.

"You said you wanted no one tainted, no one with a dark soul that felt only to destroy." Claude's voice was wavering between cold and malicious. "If such a person were to come to your midst, would you not want me to get rid of them…Your Highness?"

Alois couldn't reply. He coughed again, hurting everywhere. Blood ran down his pale skin and tarnishing everything it touched crimson. Claude bent over, and, to the blonde's surprise, kissed him. Alois whimpered, barely able to feel the sensation of those lips because everything was starting to go numb. The night-haired Kumoshitsuji pulled back, red stains of Alois' own blood covering his lips. Claude licked it up, a wicked smile forming on his lips as he did so.

"You taste like blood…Your Highness."

* * *

_A doll whose glass eyes only observed hate. Whose ears only heard wicked laughter and horrified screams. Hands meant to serve, that only served death. A blank doll who absorbed its master's evil, gained its own identity, and became a devil. Still as a black widow, it waited for the opportunity to end it's master's life…within its own web._

_A Kumoshitsuji._

* * *

_Ending A/N: Happy Halloween, kiddies...~ Review and you get candy when I reply to you guys on Monday :3_


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